Wedding Wagers(53)

"If we must." She, too, sounded as if she would have been happy to escape to his carriage.

Her response elicited a chuckle. "I do so enjoy your company, Mrs.  Rowley," he admitted. "And you are so beautiful-the most beautiful bride  I have ever seen."

"Have you seen many?" Her brows drew together quizzically.         

     



 

"No," he admitted with a short bark of laughter, which he tried to  disguise as a cough. "I haven't seen any brides before. Nonetheless, you  are beautiful. Today and always you will shine everyone else  down-regardless of the number of weddings we attend."

With her hand on his arm, he turned her toward the witnesses and  well-wishers-and Sherborne's fist, which only narrowly missed his face  and only then because Lady Grayson lunged forward and grabbed his arm at  the last second.

Emily and her mother screamed. The baron swore and moved his large frame  up the aisle faster than Eli would have believed possible, putting  himself between his daughters and Sherborne, knocking the latter to the  ground as he did.

"What is the meaning of this?" the baron demanded, reminding Eli of that fateful night in the stables.

"Why don't you ask him?" Sherborne pointed a finger at Eli as he rose.  "What do you mean by using my name, and looking like-" He stared hard at  Eli. "And that ring-" Sherborne's gaze shifted to Emily's hand. "It was  my grandmother's. If you don't believe me, come look in the portrait  hall at Collingwood."

The baron shifted his focus from Sherborne to Eli. "You've definitely  some explaining to do. Thought I was seeing a ghost when you turned  around. No doubt you're a Rowley, but how?"

Eli wrapped a protective arm around Emily and pulled her farther away,  well out of Sherborne's reach. "The same way the earl is. The ring  belonged to our grandmother. Years ago she gave it to our father, who  gave it to his wife, my mother, on their wedding day."



The wedding breakfast was to have been a simple affair, held at the  house and for the family only, as there was no joy in their daughter's  hasty marriage to a common man. But the table remained empty, the food  long since cold, before Emily or anyone else was able to enjoy it.

Unexpected circumstances being what they were, Father was in no mood to  eat-a rarity-and had instead ordered his new son-in-law and Lord Rowley  into his study when they arrived. For the past three quarters of an hour  they had been in there, arguing heatedly, given the volume of their  voices carrying through to the other side of the door where Sophia  stood, her ear pressed to the wood.

Every few minutes she would tiptoe across the foyer to the sitting room  and relay to Emily and their mother exactly what was being said. Thus  far she had discerned that the main argument centered around how Emily  was to be addressed from now on. Their father said that, as she had  married an earl after all, she must be reintroduced to society as Lady  Rowley. Likewise Eli, as well, should be presented as the heir he was.

Eli, however, disagreed rather vehemently with her father, and he, along  with the earl-no longer entitled to be called such-did not wish  anything to be different than it had been before this morning. But now  that the proper documents, evidence of Lord Rowley's first marriage, had  been produced there were bound to be repercussions.

Sophia was at the door again now, looking both resplendent in her pale-green gown and delighted with whatever she was hearing.

Emily watched her sister through the open sitting room doors. She has  always been one for drama and excitement. This morning they had both in  spades.

Sophia left her post and practically skipped back to them. "The earl-my  earl," she clarified, "has just said that he will see your earl in court  before he forfeits his title or property. Your earl-" Sophia looked at  Emily, "-said he has no interest in either the title or property. He  said he would never have revealed himself as Lord Rowley's son, had  there not been need for it in order to meet with the Archbishop to get  the license to marry you."

"His face alone revealed his parentage," Mother said. "When he turned at  the church, so that we saw his profile-it was as if we were seeing Lord  Rowley some twenty years ago. Such a shock to your poor father."

"Poor father?" Sophia said. "And what of Sherborne? How do you think he felt?"

"Rather terrible," Emily said, actually feeling sorry for him. How  devastating it must be to know that everything one had, from his title  to his property, might be swept away.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about." Their mother stood and looked  out the window, checking, as she had repeatedly since their return, to  see that no one was coming up the drive to witness the catastrophe that  was her daughter's wedding day. "Emily's husband was never acknowledged  as legitimate, so it matters not who his father was or that he was born  first."         

     



 

"It should always matter who one's father is-titled or not," Emily said.  Her emotions were still jumbled, and likely would be for some time, but  the thought of what Eli had been through these many years was enough to  elicit a well of compassion that swelled her heart toward him even  more.

"It did not matter enough, nor, apparently, did your husband's mother to  Lord Rowley. By the time her baby arrived, he had wed another."

"That's just it, Mother!" Sophia jumped onto the sofa, landed on her  knees, and clutched a pillow to her chest. "The new earl insists-"

"-Sophia," Mother exclaimed in a harsh whisper. "For heaven's sake act  your age and like a lady. Jumping on the furniture … " She brought a hand  to her head as if it pained her.

"Ladies my age are boring." Sophia leaned forward, apparently eager to  share what she had overheard. "Emily's husband insists that his father  never divorced his mother. So it is Sherborne who is illegitimate."

Mother's mouth opened and closed repeatedly for several seconds, bringing to mind a guppy.

"If that is true," she said at last. "This is an even worse scandal. I  cannot see why you, of all people, Sophia, should be excited by this.  After all, you were set to marry the man."

"We shall still marry, regardless, Mother. We are happy together. I have  had my titled husband and paid for it dearly with several years of  loneliness and boredom."

"Marriage is not about happiness," Mother snapped.

"For Emily and I, it is-or so I hope it to be." Eli stood in the  doorway, looking somewhat disheveled, his tailcoat long since abandoned,  his waistcoat unbuttoned, shirt partly untucked, and his cravat  loosened to a slouchy mess about his neck.

Emily wondered how he felt about all these fancy clothes. While he  looked exceptionally fine in them, she sensed his discomfort-with the  clothing and all else that came with the life of an earl. She felt no  desire to force it upon him.

Emily's mother crossed the room to stand before Eli. "Tell me of your mother."

"Her name was Margaret Linfield." A sad, fleeting smile curved his lips.  "She died when I was eleven. I loved her very much. Ours was a happy  home."

Simple statements, yet Emily felt a depth in them that had been lacking  in her own upbringing. She knew her parents loved her, of course, but  there were expectations tied to that love-expectations that, since her  failure of a season years earlier, she had not met.

"But who was she," Mother persisted. "Who were her parents?"

Eli smiled. "My grandfather was the gardener at Claymere."

"This changes nothing, then," Mother exclaimed. "Your father did what Emily has just done and married far below his station."

"My father married for love," Eli said. "He just did not have the courage to stay for it.

But you are correct; this changes nothing." Eli looked past her mother  to catch Emily's gaze. "I am still Eli Linfield-a common man, my own  man. I prefer it that way-independent of any title or inheritance for  either my well-being, sustenance, or happiness."

"Oh, well said, well said." Sophia rose to her knees once more on the  sofa and clapped enthusiastically. "If you had not married him already,  Emily, I might have."

Emily cast her sister a dark look of warning. Sophia had stolen the earl from her, but she could not have Eli.

Sophia laughed. "Not to worry, sister. I shall let you keep this one. I can see that you want him."

"Enough!" Mother whirled from Eli and marched toward Sophia. "You are  the one who sounds as if she was raised a heathen. Have you no mind for  what is proper conversation?"

"I have had my fill of proper, Mother. Let me be." Sophia jumped up from  the couch and headed toward the door, pausing to give Emily a hug. "Be  happy," she whispered. "You don't know how lucky you are."